


Now is not the time

by rcmsw



Series: Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, These two are bad at feelings ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rcmsw/pseuds/rcmsw
Summary: Her heartbeat picks up again, with an adrenaline unlike anything she’s known in her years as a soldier and survivor. It doesn’t make her want to run, or fight. Instead she gets the urge to close the small distance between them, wrap her arms around him, lock her lips to his, leave no space between them.Three times Jyn and Cassian almost worked up the nerve and one time they finally did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week Day 4 - Nerve.  
> This was supposed to be a 5 + 1 thing but I didn't have the juice for it so take 3 + 1 instead. The nerve prompt really made me think of Bodhi, which is why he gets extra love in this rebelcaptain fic. I might have to use the prompt to do something separate with him.

The beeping of the equipment is a steady point amid the chaos of Jyn’s mind. She tries to match her breath, her heartbeat to it. To calm herself, steady the panic that has lodged in her chest.

It doesn’t work.

Instead, with each beep, a new image flashes in her mind. The bolt flashing from the man in white’s blaster. Cassian falling. His body hitting the deck of the data vault. The way he leaned into her fully on the beach, unable to support himself. The echo as he dropped to the ground in the ship, safe from the Death Star’s blast but not from harm. His eyes looking up, trying to focus on her as they closed.

They haven’t opened since.

They made it back to Yavin IV, thanks to Bodhi. There were few survivors outside of the three of them. The medics and droids had seen to Cassian immediately, he had bacta treatment and a full work up. They said he would pull through, that she shouldn’t worry. That didn't stop her.

It’s not until his eyes open, deep brown staring back at her once more, that she finally feels calm.

He smiles, and it overwhelms her.

“Jyn,” he whispers.

Her heartbeat picks up again, with an adrenaline unlike anything she’s known in her years as a soldier and survivor. It doesn’t make her want to run, or fight. Instead she gets the urge to close the small distance between them, wrap her arms around him, lock her lips to his, leave no space between them.

It terrifies her. She can’t pinpoint when exactly she started allowing herself to care about people again, or at least admit to it. It had been easy to accept it on the beach. To turn to him in her last moments. Even then though, she had cautioned him against anything too much, warning him with a look. And as he always seemed to, he understood.

She could put herself that close to him again, fill the void she’s felt since she pulled away. But though they survived, others did not. The mission was a success, but at a great cost. Now is not the time.

She looks down just briefly, enough to break the intensity of their gaze, and he might understand because his smile falls and his face grows serious once again. He asks her about the others, and she has to tell him.

\------------

A waste.

That’s what it had all been. A waste of lives, of resources. The success they had celebrated while broken and bruised was gone. The plans were missing. The princess presumed dead.

Cassian allows himself to feel it all for just a moment. The crushing weight of guilt, loss, failure. His comrades, the ones he had convinced to fight on Scarif, had died for nothing. The relief he had felt, the small feeling of absolution, has been torn from him. He feels it all fully for just a moment, and then pushes it aside. Because he knows whatever he feels in this moment, Jyn is dealing with as well.

He’s not even sure if she’ll want him there, or if she’d prefer to be alone. But he has to at least check in on her, see her. He’ll leave if he’s not wanted, but he can’t abandon her to face this loss alone.

Cassian scours the base for her, checking her quarters and his, Bodhi’s ship, the hangar. He finally finds her outside, perched at the top of the temple, as isolated as she could be.

Whatever her initial reaction had been, she has more control over it now. Her eyes are slightly red, but there are no tears on her face. She stares forward blankly, unseeing. Like on Jedha, he has to touch her to get her attention, hand light on her shoulder, saying her name.

She turns to him then, and he’s surprised, and pleased, by the fire in her eyes. She hasn’t given up.

“We’ll find another way,” she tells him fiercely. “Another way to take them down, destroy the Death Star. They’ll never win.”

Her fire stirs his own. She’s right of course. He has no plans to give in. They’ll keep fighting, he and Jyn, the rebellion.

The hard set of her face, the pure determination, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He wants to kiss her, taste the fire he sees in her eyes, know if her skin burns as hotly as his does in this moment.

But this is not a time for romance, he tells himself. They’re both grieving a loss, talking about war. He stays by her side. They talk about the next steps, her father, their pasts, and he counts the stars in an effort to slow his heart.

\--------------

The Death Star hovers in the sky above her. Her father’s work, his legacy. Jedha. Scarif. Alderaan. And now Yavin IV, if the rebellion’s attack doesn’t succeed.

  
She has nothing to do. She’s not a strong enough pilot to join the X-wing attack, and doesn’t have high enough clearance to be in the council room. So she huddles around a small radio with other soldiers who are just as anxious as she is and listens as the young Luke Skywalker perfectly hits the weakness her father had built.

The Death Star erupts, turns to dust. This is her father’s legacy.

The base erupts in cheers and shouts, and she joins as well. Perhaps this is hers.

Bodhi finds her first, hands reaching out for each other. She sees his thoughts on display in his eyes. He had known her father too, perhaps better than she did. It was Bodhi who had started this all, his courage that brought her father’s message, exposed the weakness. She feels the need to tell him that, but she doesn’t know how, so she borrows words once again.

“He would be proud of you, Bodhi,” she tells him. For once, she thinks he might not doubt it.

Then Cassian is there, smiling with a levity she has never seen. Bodhi turns to him and they throw their arms around each other, like old friends reuniting. Cassian claps him on the back.

“This is because of you, pilot,” he tells him. Bodhi looks a little sheepish, but he grins.

Cassian turns to her and she goes up on her toes to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck as they embrace. His hand clutches briefly at the top of her back, where he had held her on Scarif. They pull apart sooner than either wants, their eyes meeting.

It’s a time of celebration. Others around them are hugging, kissing, cheering. It’s a decisive victory. But they both know it’s just the beginning. She can see it on his face, the tiny lines forming along his eyes. The war is not over yet, and they’ll both have so much more fighting to do. Who knows if they’ll see the next celebration.

Cassian looks away first this time, and she’s grateful.

Jyn is learning she’s not nearly as brave and reckless as she once thought.

\------------------

The alarms blast a steady beat as semi-organized chaos unfolds throughout the base.

Jyn remains calm. They knew an Imperial attack was imminent, had prepared for it. Each member of the rebellion, herself and her friends included, knew exactly what was needed from them in this moment.

Bodhi will be gearing up with his fighter squadron, his orange jumpsuit replacing the Imperial one she had first seen him in.

Cassian will be coordinating initial efforts before boarding one of the earlier evacuation ships. It wouldn’t do the alliance any good if troopers found an Imperial contact in a rebel base. She hadn’t seen him today, they hadn’t had the time, both busy with their separate responsibilities. That wasn’t unusual for them, but now she wished they’d had just a moment, a meal this morning or a quick smile in the halls.

She’ll see him at the rendezvous point, after her squadron evacuates, she knows that. The next few hours of attack will be intense but she’s prepared. Her squadron’s orders are simple - slow the advance as much as possible so the base can evacuate, then get the hell out of there themselves.

  
She’s zipping up her final layer when she sees him hustle into the hangar, quick steps belying his controlled face.

Her heart lifts at the sight of him, begins to beat in the rapid rhythm she’s slowly gotten used to around him. He’s got his bag on his shoulder, packed and ready to leave. He had orders he was supposed to follow, would follow, but he had put her before them. As Echo Base fell around them, he came back for her. Again.

  
He smiles with relief when he sees her, and walks towards her with determined steps. They stop just inches from each other, close enough to brush against each other if they shifted, to feel the other’s breath on them.

He starts to speak, but hesitates, seems unable to find the words.

“Just be careful,” he tells her finally. “And I’ll see you at the rendezvous.” His eyes stare deeply into her own, pleading and promising all at once.

Now is not the time. Alarms are blaring, her squadron leader is calling her and Cassian needs to evacuate. It’s not the time. But she doesn’t care.

She steps towards him, finally closing the small space that’s been between them since they pulled apart on Scarif. Her gloved hands grip the front of his parka as she pulls his lips down to hers. Its rushed and urgent, their chapped lips crashing together, his hands on her back, in her hair, pulling them closer.

She feels his heart beating as fast as her own, but it’s not nerves, not fear. It’s something entirely different, and she's done running from it.

**Author's Note:**

> The last scene is inspired by the fic [Vigil](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10476297)


End file.
